


To Believe in Tomorrow

by Find_a_Way



Category: Call the Midwife
Genre: Bathtub Sex, F/M, Married Fluff, Married Smut, Patrick Turner - Freeform, Shelagh Turner - Freeform, Turnadette - Freeform, married love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-18 13:17:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13682466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Find_a_Way/pseuds/Find_a_Way
Summary: After a long day working in their new garden, Patrick convinces Shelagh that a little investment in their future would include a nice hot bath.





	To Believe in Tomorrow

"To plant a garden is to believe in tomorrow.”  
Audrey Hepburn

Shelagh Turner sat back on her heels and surveyed the newly-planted daisies along the stone wall. “These will do nicely,” she told herself. With a huff, she stood and gathered her basket and gardening tools then turned to face the garden. The lavender was just beginning to bloom, and she had high hopes for the hydrangeas in the corner. The Big Freeze hadn’t been kind to them, but perhaps with a bit of tender care this season, they’d be rewarded with the big blooms next year. 

The rasp of a shovel in dirt drew her attention to her husband, intent on planting the last of the new climbing roses near the front door. He dropped the tool to the ground, then knelt to pull the root ball from its burlap sack. 

A sudden oath broke the quiet. “Damn!” 

Shelagh clicked her tongue. “Thorns again?” She strolled over to his side. 

“Yes, bloody things! Just look at my forearms--I look like I’ve lost a fight with a cat.”

The gaze she gave his arms was perfunctory. “Poor thing. But just think how happy you’ll be once they’ve climbed along the porch, a cloud of pink blossoms…”

He grunted, and compacted soil about the plant’s base. “I should think all this gardening ought to excuse me from buying you flowers, at least.”

Fine eyebrows rose in skepticism. “Well, we’ll see. I’ve finished the daisies, all that’s left is to trim the boxwood on the side of the drive. How about you get to that whilst I make some tea, then we can go collect the children from Granny Parker’s?”

He nodded his head in agreement, then pushed off his knee to stand stiffly. “I’ll need to tie this vine up along the post, too. Bring out some twine, could you?” Patrick stretched his back and rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ll be needing a hot soak in the bath after this.”

“Oh, Patrick, you’re making a mess! You’ve got dirt everywhere now, just look at your shirt!” 

Irritation rose up between them. Patrick’s voice took on a patronizing air. “Shelagh, I’m not certain I understand how I can do all the gardening chores you’ve asked me to, and keep clean. I’m digging in the dirt, after all. On my only day off, I might add. You’re being a fuss.”

“I haven’t had a day off in quite some time, either, if you’ll remember,” Shelagh retorted. “We both agreed that we’d get the garden under control now, before things got out of hand. I’m certain I’d rather have a day of rest when Granny Parker asked to take the littles for the day.” She turned sharply from him and headed for the door.

“Shelagh.” Patrick reached out and grasped her hand, eager to soothe her ruffled feelings. “Shelagh, don’t.” He pulled her back to face him and continued in a teasing voice, “We both know that you’d never have used the day to lounge about. If it hadn’t been the garden, you’d have been at the boxes we still have to unpack or had me building shelves for the garage.” His hands settled on her hips and he smiled flirtatiously. “And how is it you can spend an entire day in the garden and still look freshly pressed?” 

Shelagh smothered an answering smile. “I know what you’re about, Patrick, so don’t think you can seduce me with one of your crooked grins. There’s work still to be done.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he smirked. He’d finish the garden work--there was no getting around that--but he knew, even if she didn’t, that his grin was working. 

 

An hour later, the roses were climbing the porch column and the boxwoods were trimmed. Patrick returned to the kitchen hoping for tea, but expecting another chore.  
Shelagh patted his dirt-smudged shirt. “You’re quite a mess, dear. Go get washed. You’ve just enough time to rest a wee bit before we collect the children. Leave this with me and I’ll start it soaking. It’s no good letting a perfectly fine gardening shirt be ruined.”

He watched her as he unbuttoned his shirt and slipped the braces off his shoulders. She didn’t turn away when he tugged it free of his trousers, but watched until he shrugged it off, impassive but for the glowing pink in the center of her cheeks. He smiled broadly. “Come up for the rest, why don’t you?” With a toss of his head he climbed the stairs to the bathroom.

Before long, the air in the large bathroom was steamy. Patrick turned off the tap and settled back into the bath. Heat seeped into his muscles, and he felt the aches begin to ease.  
A tap at the door made him smile. “Enter,” he called. 

Shelagh stepped into the room. Her hair was no longer covered by her kerchief, and she had left her apron behind. She no longer looked like a housewife intent on chores, and Patrick tried to hide his grin. 

“I love this big tub,” Patrick mused, his eyes half closed.

“Yes, you’ve said.” She stooped to pick up his washing. “Really, Patrick, the washbin is three feet away.”

He ignored her scold. “It’s much bigger than the one at the flat.”

“You’ve said that, too.” Toiletries clanked as she cleared the sink and refolded clean towels.

“That never seemed to stop us, though, did it?”

Shelagh giggled and placed the towel back on the rack before turning to face him. “Patrick Turner, you are incorrigible.”

He reached out and tugged on her skirt, drawing her closer. “I think I’ll need help scrubbing my back, Shelagh.” His hand slid under the hem of her skirt and over her knee.

“Something tells me it’s not your back you’ll be wanting rubbed,” Shelagh’s voice was prim.

He laughed. “Come on then,” he coaxed. “Give us a kiss.”

Shelagh ignored his naked form submerged in the warm water, her gaze strictly on his face. “For goodness’ sake, Timothy could be home from the library any time now.”

“Timothy knows we’re working in the garden today,” his soft voice lulled her to perch on the tub’s edge. “I’ll be surprised if we see him before dark. When do we ever have the house to ourselves, Shelagh?” He wiggled his brow. “You can even make noise, if you like.” The grin faded and his face grew more intense. “I like when you make noise.”

His desire stoked a heat within her. She became intensely aware of him stretched out in the warm water, his long, thin feet pressed against the porcelain, his arms draped over the edge, and her mouth grew dry. She swallowed tightly and tried to stay in control. “You’ll be full of promises to help clean up the mess we’d make, but you’ll dash off and leave me to it.”

He chuckled naughtily. “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

His cool fingers skimmed higher and found the hem of her stocking, an eyebrow cocked in question. He stroked the smooth skin there and as he tugged at the clip of elastic, her brow creased with the last bit of resistance. “Patrick, it’s the middle of the day.”

“It’s just us, Shelagh. No children, no patients, just you and me in our own little world.” With his soft words, his hand shifted higher and his thumb pressed gently against her inner thigh. 

Hidden muscles clenched in response, and she exhaled deeply. “It never is just us,” she conceded, and her legs parted just a bit more.

The thumb drifted higher. “It is now.” He stroked the light fabric he met there in small circles, and her feet stretched up on her toes, arching her legs. Her hand trailed at the surface of the water and she breathed deeply. He moved his hand just a tiny bit more and was about to slip a finger under the elastic when he whispered once again, “Yes?”

A wide grin spread across her face. “I’m afraid I must,” she answered.

 

In a matter of moments they were side by side in the large tub, the warm water soothing them both. 

“You don’t seem quite so dirty, now I notice,” Shelagh said, running her hand over the smooth wet planes of his chest.

“I’ll have you know I had plans for this bath from the start, dearest wife. Dirty bathwater is not, to say the very least, seductive.”

“Oh, dear. I was rather looking forward to helping you scrub clean. I suppose I should leave?” She pretended to get up. “Oh, but dearest, I think you’ve missed a spot.” Her hand slipped lower beneath the water.

Air escaped from his lungs in a slow hiss as her hand skated lower, tracing the muscles of his abdomen in slow circles until her fingers nudged at the tip of his penis. He was already beginning to respond to her attentions, and she lazily trailed her fingertips down the hardening length. For long moments, the only sound in the room was his steady deep breaths and the gentle lapping of the water against the tub.

She smiled her delight against his chest. His desire for her was such an aphrodisiac. She wrapped her hand about the shaft and began to slide her hand up and down its length in leisurely strokes, the satisfying sound of the quickened pace of his breathing in her ear. He threw his head back against the rolled edge of the bath and moaned. “Yes, like that.”

Like that. She increased the pressure of her hand and was rewarded with another sound from deep in his chest. She loved how he responded to her. Forgetting the rest of the world, she let her own desire take over.

She released him and lifted herself above him, her knees straddling his hips, his erection hot between them. The cool air tingled against her exposed skin and her nipples hardened in response. She sat back and let him look at her. 

“You’re so perfect,” he murmured. 

She took his hands from the sides of the tub and cupped them against her breasts. Needing no more invitation than that, he began to knead them in gentle circles, massaging them to a tight fullness. Her hands slid down his forearms and gripped the wiry muscles. His palms pressed lightly against the tips, and she let out a shaky breath as her eyelids fluttered closed. 

“Open your eyes,” his husky voice compelled her. “Look at how beautiful you are.”

She bit her lip. She still felt self-conscious about her body since Teddy was born. He rubbed the pads of his thumbs over her nipples and she gasped in surprise. “Do you like that?” he asked.  
She opened her eyes and stared into his face. His cheeks were flushed with desire, and his eyes glittered. 

“Do you like that?” he repeated the question. “Tell me.”

She nodded, her mouth dry. “Yes.”

“You want more.” The words rumbled in his chest. He rotated his hips, coaxing her legs farther apart and his stiff penis was surrounded by her tender folds. Her sigh enflamed him. “Show me what you like.” 

All self-consciousness fled. She placed her hands over his, her eyes locked with his. She guided his fingers, and together they stroked at her stiff nipples. “Yes,” she hummed. Waves of pleasure began to build as water surrounded her sensitive skin and she felt a different type of wetness build between her legs, eliminating friction as she slid along his length. 

She reached out and gripped his shoulders. He moved forward, the water making waves against them, then rubbed his cheek against her, his afternoon stubble teasing the supple skin. Hungrily, he took one dark pink tip in his mouth. Gentle licks and nibbles tortured her, and one hand teased her other breast while the other massaged her bottom. She held his head to her, her fingers in his hair, and threw her head back to grant him greater access. 

He felt so hard, and she rocked against him more quickly now. He shifted his mouth to her other breast, this time sucking harder and taking more of her into his mouth. A sound somewhere between a groan and a whisper escaped her throat and Shelagh pulled away. 

He protested. “Don’t. God, you taste so good.”

She cupped his face and rubbed her parted lips over his, her teeth and tongue gently tugging his lower lip into her mouth. Lifting up out of the water again, she took his sex into her hand and guided it to her center. He answered her with a low growl, and it broke through her haze of passion. She could tease, too. She held his shaft still and slid over it, allowing it to press at her entrance, then sliding it up to the swollen knot of flesh and back. Now free of his hands, her breasts swayed against him, her nipples pinpoints of pleasure against his chest.

He tangled his wet hands in her hair and pulled her to him to kiss her deeply. Their tongues caressed for long moments and the fire between them grew. Shelagh pulled back and pressed her forehead to his. “I need you inside me,” she panted.

Tenderly, she guided him as she slid down his length and they exhaled together as he finally filled her. Slow strokes up and down increased in speed, and the water began to lap at the sides of the tub higher and higher. Shelagh pushed her hands against the porcelain to get more leverage and rode him faster. His hands glided over her wet skin, pulling her tight each time their bodies connected and their moans began to fill the steamy room.

Shelagh opened her eyes to see him watching her breasts move with each urgent thrust. Emboldened, she arched her back to invite him closer. He shifted his body into an upright position and took the pink bud into his hot mouth once again. Nerve endings set off an electric charge throughout her body with each draw, intensifying her arousal in a mad rush of sensation. Her head fell back in abandon, arching her back and the pressure against her most sensitive of places drove her passion to a fever pitch. 

Patrick released her swollen peak and trailed his lips up her breast, up past her collarbone to nuzzle the silky skin below her ear. “God, Shelagh, yes, come with me,” he murmured over and over. Her body drove above him faster and faster, neither noticing the water splashing sloppily over the sides of the bathtub as she came above him. 

Their bodies locked together in exquisite tension, orgasms detonating waves of ecstasy as the water swirled around them. Neither breathed for long moments, eyes closed and ears filled with the white noise of their pounding blood flow, all senses centered on this extraordinary joy. 

 

A light breeze fluttered through the white curtain and trailed gooseflesh along Shelagh’s damp back. As passion receded and her body calmed, she became aware of the chill. With a deep breath, she pulled back from her husband. “Watch your feet,” she warned. Reaching behind her, she opened the hot water tap. 

“Oi!” Patrick complained. 

“I did try to tell you. We’ve splashed the tub nearly empty.” She slid off his hips and nestled in at his side. 

A satisfied smirk passed over his face. “We’ll have to finish out in the garden another time.”

“Oh, we’re quite finished, dearest. I’ve already told Timothy he’ll be in charge of potting the geraniums next weekend.”

“Then why--”

The giggle that escaped was naughty. “I sent all the children away for the entire day, Patrick. You didn’t suppose we were going to spend the whole time in the garden, did you? It was only a matter of time before you tried to get me naked. Be a dear and shut the tap, will you? I’m not quite finished with you yet.”


End file.
